


No Regrets?

by AmadeusRex



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: (but it's really condensed, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Regret, Resolution, Slow Burn, and, and mostly payoff)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27096748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmadeusRex/pseuds/AmadeusRex
Summary: After the sunrise, Prompto's got a ton of regrets weighing on him.Not asking Ignis out won't be one of them.Written forFound Beneath the Stars: A Promnis Zine!
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Kudos: 23





	No Regrets?

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't be happier to have contributed to Found Beneath the Stars! Promnis is near and dear to my heart, as it's the topic that got me into seriously writing fic for publishing, AND was the topic of the first ever zine I was in. It's only feels fitting for me to return to FFXV fic with this zine :)
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy this story!

Ten. That’s how many times Prompto has marked every page in his calendar. Ten times means ten years, and ten years means a decade since Noct disappeared, swallowed up by the Crystal. Prompto flips through the pages, looking at the faded remains of notes for his bygone trip.

_ Leaving Insomnia! Sailing to Altissia! Noct’s wedding day! Vacation! Coming home! _

Less than half of what he wrote down ever happened, not to mention what he didn’t write down.

Speaking of what he didn’t do…

Ignis. He was going to ask out Ignis.

Prompto mulls over his original plan; he was going to come back to Insomnia, let Noct and Lady Lunafreya settle into their marriage, wait for the media buzz to quiet down, and then  _ maybe _ ask Ignis out if he wasn’t too busy.

And then what? Prompto hadn’t given it much thought. Dinner and a movie? A picnic lunch? A bookstore date? Whatever he would have wanted to do, it wasn’t possible now.

But just because something’s not possible doesn’t mean he can’t try.

* * *

A week later, Prompto’s got everything planned out. He’ll have Ignis over and just spit it out over dinner. He’s getting ready to go out and hunt for the day when he gets a call. Ignis is on the other line.

“Prompto? I need you to stay at Hammerhead today.”

“Huh? What for?” Prompto’s not used to getting phone calls asking him to stay where he is. He hears Ignis take a deep breath.

“Noct is back.”

Prompto has to sit down. Suddenly the world spins, and he’s twenty years old again.

He bolts out the garage door, plans forgotten.

* * *

After catching up on a decade of separation and camping together one last time, it’s time to go home.

Seeing Insomnia in ruins is nothing short of heartbreak for Prompto, but there’s a strange serenity to the eerie silence of the streets. Somehow, tonight is like all those nights he spent on moonlit walks as a teenager, taking moody pictures and dreaming.

Dreaming of adventure (check), of making something of himself (double check), and, most embarrassingly, of love (no check).

But now’s not the time to dwell, to regret, not when there’s daemons around every corner and one hell of a job to get done, so he reloads his gun and keeps shooting.

Fighting through the streets, it’s just like old times, and not just because Noct’s back; Prompto can barely remember the last time he fought with Ignis and Gladio. He’s missed this feeling of brotherhood.

He tries not to think about how it won’t last for much longer.

* * *

The Pyreburner’s flames burn bright, and it is only through their haze that Prompto can make out Noct summoning forth Shiva to give Ifrit the kiss of death. His mind lingers on that kiss for a moment longer than he’d care to admit. Death is nothing to envy, but to meet it so sweetly…. Prompto wouldn’t mind if he went out the same way.

He thinks about Noct. How does he feel, knowing that every step he takes, every breath he draws, brings him closer to eternal rest? Does he have any regrets? It sure doesn’t look like it.

_ Regrets, huh.... Must be nice to not have any, _ Prompto thinks to himself. He watches as Ifrit shatters into a million shimmering shards of diamond dust. Does a god have anything to regret? Or does immortality, and the knowledge that he shall one day see his beloved again, preclude that?

Prompto shakes his head.  _ Now’s not the time, _ he tells himself. But when he glances over at Ignis, a smile cracks Prompto’s tired face. He watches Ignis laugh at the potion he’s handed, as he’d just pulled out a roll of bandages. Ever prepared, ever caring, Prompto doesn’t want to live a life without Ignis in it.

As the frost thaws and Noct leads his friends up the Citadel stairs, Prompto hopes that such a life does not start tonight.

* * *

Dawn breaks for the first time in ten years, and the sunlight is blinding. Prompto squints at the brilliance of the city around him, glittering with broken glass and dewdrops. He could stay there forever, in the warmth of the long-forgotten sun. With his eyes closed, it feels like the same sun that beat down on him and his best friends as they pushed their broken-down car along the dusty roads of Leide.

Friends. There’s only two of them now.

Despite his best efforts not to, Prompto is one to dwell on things. But he’ll have to start letting go, because he’d been told to walk tall. And he can’t do that if he’s stuck in the past.

But there’s one loose end that still bothers him, one little pang of regret, one heavy weight left in his chest.

_ What if you had asked Ig— _

No. No, no. None of that, out, out,  _ out! _

Prompto heaves a sigh. His heart won’t ever leave him alone. There are more important things to worry about right now, like how to rebuild the world, and how to lay Noct to rest, but no; Prompto’s thoughts immediately go to the most trivial thing possible.

He shakes his head to bring himself back to reality, to remind himself that now’s not the time.

When  _ will _ it be the time?

* * *

Seven sunrises later, Prompto is sitting on his bed in the Lestallum apartment he shares with the others, looking back on his photos. He’d been fighting the urge to open the album he made ages ago, but he’d figured a week was enough time for his heart to at least scab over.

He was wrong, of course.

A hand comes to rest on his shoulder as he takes a shaky breath with his eyes screwed shut. Prompto doesn’t need to see to know it’s Ignis’.

“Are you okay, Prompto?”

Prompto takes a minute to think. Is he okay? Has he been okay even once in the past week? In the last ten years? If he was going to be picky with his words, then no, he’s not okay. ‘Fine,’ maybe, but not okay.

“I’m fine.” Prompto picks at the stubborn dirt under his fingernails. “Guess I have too many regrets to feel ‘okay.’”

Ignis takes a seat next to Prompto. He lays the album aside, then takes Prompto’s hand.

“What kind of regrets, if I may ask? If you’d rather not say, I understand.” He squeezes Prompto’s hand.

Thoughts race through Prompto’s head.  _ I wish I’d talked to Noct sooner. I wish I’d written Lady Lunafreya back. I wish I’d told my parents I loved them more. I wish I wish I wish— _

_ I wish I’d asked you out, Ignis. _

He decides not to admit that last one. He grips Ignis’ hand.

“I wish I’d talked to Noct sooner, so I would’ve had more time with him, and with you.” A beat, and then Prompto realizes the implications of his word choice. “You  _ and _ Gladio!”

He feels his face flush. Maybe, under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have felt the need to clarify what he meant. But when you’ve been in love with the same guy for over a decade, you always feel the need to be careful.

Ignis chuckles, softly, quietly, like he’s remembering how to after a decade of darkness.

“I knew what you meant. I’d have liked to have spent more time with you during the light, as well.”

A beat. Two. Three. Prompto’s heart begins to pick up the pace.

“Do you have any regrets of your own, though, Ignis?”

Ignis smiles, thoughtful, slightly bitter at the corners.

“Too many to count, at times. But dwelling on them doesn’t do any good.” He adjusts his visor. “All I can do now is make sure that I won’t have more going forward.”

“Wise words as always, Iggy.” Prompto leans back, and unwittingly pulls his hand out of Ignis’ as he does. He’d forgotten they were holding hands—well, sort of.

Prompto watches as Ignis’ fingers flex, then relax again. He stares for a minute, wondering, wanting, wishing.

The part of him that’s twenty screams.

The part of him that’s thirty smiles.

If Ignis had taken his hand first, then maybe…?

Prompto straightens up again and interlaces his fingers with Ignis’. For once, neither of them are wearing gloves, and the touch feels bizarrely intimate. A quiet moment passes.

“I gotta confess, I do have one more regret,” Prompto says.

Ignis gives a tiny hum, curious.

A steadying breath, and the words that have waited fifteen years to leave Prompto’s mouth finally see the light of day.

“That I didn’t tell you I’m in love with you.”

Ignis is quiet, so quiet that if Prompto didn’t know him so well, he’d think Ignis hadn’t heard him.

Finally, Ignis smiles.

“And I, you.”

The words set in, and Prompto smiles so wide that he feels like his face will split in two. He can’t believe it; how could he believe it? Years and years of pining, and in an instant his feelings are returned and his heart sings.

Prompto squeezes Ignis’ hand tighter, and lets his head come to rest on Ignis’ shoulder. 

“It’s embarrassing to admit, but I’ve been in love with you since I was a teenager.” Prompto covers his smile, not that he can hide it from Ignis. The man could tell a smile from the way a person breathed, Prompto swears.

“If it’s any consolation, I never once suspected you,” Ignis says. “I wouldn’t let myself believe that the person I loved...might love me back.”

A million reactions run through Prompto’s mind at Ignis’ words, but he manages to settle on one.

“Well, you better start believing it now, ‘cause fifteen years of crushing doesn’t end in a day.” Prompto punctuates the end of his sentence with a squeeze of Ignis’ hand.

Ignis laughs, and brings Prompto’s hand up to kiss it.

“Well, if that’s the case, then I guess I have no choice but to believe.”

“You better, but don’t worry. I’ll be here to remind you, so if you ever forget, just say the word and I’ll give you one of these.”

Prompto stirs up every ounce of courage left in him—safety and sunlight make you soft—and pecks Ignis on the cheek. He gets one back in return, and for the first time in ten years, Prompto feels okay. More than okay.

He feels the weight of his regret disappear from his chest, and with it gone, Prompto finally feels at peace.


End file.
